Garden Joys, balm for the soul

Playful lizards, annoying blue jays, tiny birds yet to be identified, whirring humming birds, bumble bees, chattering squirrels swinging tree to tree, two curious cats who think they are adorable. . . Much as I enjoy music, the garden provides its own symphony. Twittering, skittering, rustling, singing from tiny, pink throats—and as a bonus, the bells of Saint Mary's—the laughter of children in the neighboring garden, snippets of conversation drifting across the yards and my mother's chimes in the plum tree. Memories bloom from the warm, deep shadows.

Like a cat myself, I follow the path of the sun to linger in different parts of the garden to admire its specialness, its constant gifts and surprises. As the light changes and shadows grow, each plant changes its complexion. Mundane greens turn to showy chartreuse, brown stems turn to seal skin grey, beets evolve from reddish-brown to Titian, white stock becomes a shocking sea of foam.

The nose of my wine does not inhibit the fragrance around me, in fact, seems to enhance it, as all my senses are engaged. Lavender! Lavender! Lavender! I feel its fragrance drifting through the air like a young ballet dancer, blending with the musk of rich cinnamon soil, upended grass patches where cats found something interesting, distinctive pine, heady stock, late blooming carnations and dying roses.

I yearn to fly into the sky—to be careless, free—but will settle for its endless play of light and shadow in my garden for another balmy day.